


Roommate Needed

by bigCheese



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11388186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigCheese/pseuds/bigCheese
Summary: Tucker is a porn star, Washington is an ex-military with an erased record. Washington responds to Tucker's roommate ad. What ensues: a roommate AU in which Tucker tries to get closer to the handsome, taciturn man sharing his apartment.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Agh gdi, i forgot to click multi-chapter again...
> 
> Hello I was awake at 4:30 a.m and decided to kill time going thru the tuckington tag AND that's when I thought of this. Expect some serious content (what with Wash's past trauma and Tucker's job), but also a lot of sweet stuff, and a good ending bc I don't do bad endings!
> 
> Enjoy <3

* * *

ROOMMATE NEEDED

2 bedrooms, washer/dryer in building

300$/month

*Must be ok with occasional porn shoot

* * *

 

Tucker flopped on his couch with a heavy sigh: the day had not been kind to him. In the morning, he'd had to settle a squabble with his cheap, _uncharmingly_ grumpy landlord over an increase of rent – Tucker wouldn't pay shit until that balding asshole did _something_ about the poor insulation in the building. Tucker couldn't fall asleep unless he slept naked, but he also couldn't get comfortable enough to fall asleep when the room felt colder than a freezer in winter.

 

After that, Tucker had had to fight over the pay for his latest job. The argument started out over the phone, with his agent, and escalated into Tucker paying the director who'd hired him a visit. It hadn't been pretty, but Tucker had gotten his money. He always did, no matter how many times people tried to screw him out of a hundred or two.

 

What followed that funny business was more personal. Tucker's roommate had suddenly moved out on him a week ago, and so, Tucker had spent the afternoon interviewing potential roommates. It had gone about as well as he had expected, considering the ad he put up. The little detail at the bottom of the ad had attracted all sorts of creeps, but Tucker couldn't exactly remove it. People needed to know what they were getting into; granted, he could tell them in person, during the interview, but Tucker had thought he would weed out the unqualified candidates this way. He had thought that he would save time this way. Well, it hadn't been the first thing to backfire on him.

 

It was 5:17 p.m now, and Tucker was starving. He'd eaten crackers and orange juice for breakfast, and a row of oreos at lunch – that was it. He was severely due for a grocery run. Tucker considered ordering pizza as his stomach loudly begged for attention; it was at that moment that a knock came at the door.

 

Tucker groaned. He couldn't deal with another applicant right now. Besides, wasn't this a bit late to show up unannounced for an interview? Normal people ate at this hour, and Tucker might not have been completely normal, but he could still resent not being treated as such. Tucker dragged himself off the couch nonetheless, and went to peek through the peephole.

 

A man, around 35-40 as far as Tucker could tell. Blond hair almost perfectly concealing the many white strands. Shaved – perhaps for the interview? Dark bags under the eyes, and a face that said _leave me alone_ more clearly than the actual words ever could.

 

 _This guy could go either way_ , Tucker thought, as he hesitated over entertaining the gentleman's application. Finally, he decided to make one final effort, and opened the door with a smile. ''Hey. Here for the roommate application?''

 

The man looked almost stunted for a second, as if he hadn't expected anyone to open the door – or hadn't spoken to anyone in ages. His eyes stared slightly off to the side of Tucker's head as he answered: ''Yeah.''

 

''Well, come on in,'' Tucker tried to sound pleasant despite his rising hunger, and the fact that this new applicant didn't exactly inspire trust. Then again, Tucker tried to make a point out of not judging people by their cover. The front door opened right into the living room; Tucker stopped in the middle of the room, and turned to the applicant. ''I was done with interviews for today to be honest...Any reason you didn't call ahead?''

 

The man did that delayed reaction thing again, before replying: ''I don't do great on the phone.''

 

''But in person, you're a real charmer.''

 

The applicant looked quickly at the floor, then, around the room. Self-conscious. Tucker felt a pang of guilt at his comment. Finally, the applicant let out a sigh, and turned to Tucker squarely. He looked at Tucker in the eyes with tired honesty. ''You're right, I'm sorry. I just got out of service a couple of weeks ago, so I'm...not used to things on this side.''

 

Tucker blinked. ''Service? As in, the military?''

 

The man nodded.

 

''Huh,'' Tucker let out, surprised. ''Wait, couldn't you afford a better place on a serviceman salary?''

 

''It's a long story,'' the man squirmed slightly, ''but no.''

 

''Alright. Name?''

 

''David...Washington.''

 

''Washington,'' Tucker repeated. ''Seriously?''

 

''Yeah.''

 

''Al- _right._ Any outstanding issue I should know about?''

 

Washington squirmed again. He seemed to debate whether it was better to be honest or not for a moment, then settled on: ''None of which will affect you. I'll stay out of your way, and I'll be good on rent.''

 

Tucker studied Washington quietly. While there certainly floated about Washington an air of danger and secrecy, his attempt at honesty seemed genuine enough. A bit clumsy – it wasn't hard to believe that he hadn't been around civilians for a while – but Tucker could appreciate that. That and, if he was being completely honest, Washington's strong build and good, albeit rough, looks.

 

Tucker was only human after all. A particularly thirsty human at that. He would still need to run a background check on this ex-GI Joe here, but, so far, Washington was leagues above the other applicants who Tucker had interviewed today.

 

''So,'' Tucker said then, ''you're ok with the porn thing?''

 

''Oh,'' Washington blinked. ''I was wondering what that—So, you're a—Uh—''

 

''Porn star. Yep. I sometimes do shoots in my room. It's not often, but I thought possible applicants should know. Do you mind?''

 

''No,'' Washington answered after working past his earlier fumbling.

 

''Cool,'' Tucker smiled. ''Alright, time to show you the rest of the place.''

 

Tucker lead Washington on a short tour of the apartment which, other than the living room, consisted of the kitchen, and the free bedroom. Tucker skipped over his own room as there was no point in showing it – and it was cluttered with props and costumes and leftover food. The sight – and smell – of it could definitely drive Washington away, and Tucker wanted to avoid that the more time went by.

 

Washington was awkward, and odd, but there was something about him that drew Tucker in. He also took in consideration the fact that he hadn't gotten a good lay in a while; that only accounted for part of the attraction though.

 

At the end of the tour, Tucker said: ''That's pretty much it. Got any questions?''

 

''Uh, no I'm good.''

 

''Alright.'' The two of them stood a bit awkwardly by the front door. Washington seemed to have had more than his fill of human interaction for the day if his tense shoulders and scurrying eyes were any indication, so Tucker decided to be merciful. ''Well, thanks for coming. I'll give you a call if anything. And I'll keep it short, I promise. Since, you know—You and phones.''

 

''Right,'' Washington nodded. He appeared to struggle over how to express his gratitude, and settled on a quick: ''Thanks.''

 

And he was out the door, but not before giving Tucker another look at his lovely blue eyes. Tucker closed the door behind him, and heaved out a sigh. Those eyes would haunt Tucker's dreams later tonight. Damn what the background check turned up with: Washington was his new roommate.

 

***

 

As it turned out, the background check came up with nothing. David Washington was a blank. The discovery threw Tucker in for a loop, but he worked past it eventually. While it was certainly suspicious, it wasn't that unexpected. Everything about Washington screamed ''dark past'', but what mattered was that Tucker didn't actually get a bad vibe from him. Vibes were important. Someone could have the most spotless record, and still be dangerous – vibes were the only way to tell. Tucker trusted that shit more than some stupid background check.

 

Point was, the handsome, older gentleman was in.

 

Tucker tried to sound casual over the phone as he told Washington to move in his stuff whenever Washington was ready. Washington thanked him, and promised to come by later in the day, before hanging up.

 

Tucker wasn't surprised when Washington showed up with nothing other than a duffle bag full of clothes. He welcomed Washington to the apartment warmly, offering to order food. Claiming to have already eaten, Washington fled to his bedroom almost as soon as he entered through the front door. Tucker stood staring at Washington's closed door for a moment, lips pressed together in a _well then_ kind of way.

 

Surely, the handsome, older gentleman would warm up to him with time.

 


	2. Chapter 2

A week passed without Tucker getting much of a chance to talk to his new roommate. To say that Washington was elusive would have been an understatement. He didn't hang around the apartment much, but, when he did, he didn't leave his room. Tucker didn't dare enter Washington's room either; he didn't want to be that guy. Tucker knew a thing or two about boundaries after living with his previous roommate.

 

It was a shame, but Tucker figured he should consider himself lucky to have a quiet roommate, and leave it at that. And Washington _was_ quiet, until one night.

 

It was past two in the morning, and Tucker was fast asleep. Dreaming all sorts of nice dreams, and mumbling about being a love doctor. Not a sound, a whisper, disturbed the small apartment – outside, even the neighbourhood was surprisingly peaceful.

 

Eyes screwing open, Tucker woke up to the sound of a scream. Tucker clutched the sheets, and took in a few breaths while he remembered where and who he was, before gathering that the scream had come from the other bedroom. There had only been the one scream, and everything was quiet now. Bad dream, then?

 

Tucker lied in bed for a moment, wondering if he should check on Washington. Everyone handled bad dreams differently. Tucker, for one, liked having someone around to comfort him after a bad dream. It was hard to believe that anyone _wouldn't_ , but maybe Washington was that much of a private guy.

 

 _Nah,_ Tucker thought at last, _the man needs comforting just like everybody else._

 

Tucker dragged himself out of bed, and tiptoed to Washington's room. He knocked once without getting an answer, and idled in front of the door for a minute. Maybe Washington had fallen back asleep. Right, because Washington wasn't a kid, and he could fall back asleep just fine without someone to reassure him. Tucker let out a self-deprecating sigh, and doubled back to his room.

 

Washington's door opened then, and Washington stumbled out, cradling his head. He walked towards the kitchenette without noticing Tucker.

 

Standing in front of his door, Tucker blinked, and asked: ''Wash?''

 

Calling people by their last names was a habit he'd picked up from—a friend, he might say—but he couldn't say _Washington_ with a straight face, so Tucker had opted for the shorter version. He hadn't gotten to use it much, but Washington hadn't seemed to mind the few times Tucker had used it. Maybe he was used to the nickname.

 

Washington froze in his tracks, and jerked towards Tucker. Wild-eyed, muscles tense. It took him a moment to recognize Tucker in the dark; Washington relaxed slightly then, until a different kind of surprise painted over his expression. ''W...why are you naked?!''

 

Tucker blinked, and looked down at himself. Oh, right. ''I sleep like this,'' he answered candidly, looking up. ''Forgot to put something on when I—uh—went to check up on you.''

 

''Check up on me?'' Washington tried to frown, but the nudity was too overwhelming. ''C-can you put something on _now?_ I can't talk to you like this.''

 

Tucker stayed right where he was, and flexed his arms. ''What, never saw the body of such a fine specimen, did you?''

 

''Believe me,'' Washington tried to sound casual, ''there were plenty of men with good-looking bodies in the army.''

 

''Whoa,'' Tucker stopped mid-flex. ''That's an interesting thing to mention with that kind of passion.''

 

''I mean—I—I didn't say it with—Can you just change, please?'' As Tucker retreated to his room with a chuckle, Washington added: ''And for the love of god, get that rash checked, would you?''

 

Tucker shouted from his room: ''How did you even see that?!''

 

A few minutes later, the two of them sat around the kitchen table. The sound of the coffeemaker percolating filled the room while Tucker – now wearing a downy, turquoise bathrobe - mustered up the courage to ask, ''So, hey, why are you up so late, anyway?''

 

Washington unsurprisingly dodged the question. ''I could ask you the same.''

 

'' _You_ woke me up. I heard you scream.''

 

''Oh.'' Washington lowered his eyes, playing with the handle of his empty coffee mug. A minute passed without him answering Tucker's question.

 

Tucker decided to throw him a bone. ''Bad dream?''

 

''...Yeah,'' Washington said. _Something like that._

 

''I figured. I was going to check up on you.''

 

Washington blinked at Tucker, baffled. ''Why?''

 

''Just to—you know—be nice?'' Tucker gave himself a moment to answer the question for himself, but there really wasn't anything to it. He just hadn't wanted Washington to lie alone in his bed after a nightmare, sweat-drenched and too terrified to go to the bathroom if he had to.

 

''Well, you didn't have to,'' Washington said gruffly. ''And, uh, if it ever happens again, ignore it. But I'm sorry I woke you up.''

 

''Don't worry about it. We've all been there.''

 

''I doubt it,'' Washington muttered.

 

''What?''

 

''Nothing.''

 

''No, you said something.''

 

''No, I didn't.''

 

Tucker peered at Washington's face, eyes narrow and scrutinizing. ''Fine,'' he sighed, and got up to pour them coffee. Tucker had finally gotten the two of them talking, he wasn't going to ruin it by antagonizing the man. Just the two of them like this, late at night in the dim light of the stove, the conversation could go anywhere.

 

''So how'd you get that rash?''

 

''Are you sure you wanna know? Weren't you all grossed out earlier?''

 

''...Yeah, you're right. Neverm—''

 

''Got it from one of my co-actors, probably,'' Tucker dove into the explanation. ''Not all these guys are clean, you know, but it's hard to tell 'cuz sometimes the rash hasn't reached the surface yet, you know? But it's there, and it's already contagious. It's a rough business...,'' Tucker shook his head, and lifted his hands in a _what can you do_ kind of way, adding: ''But you gotta do what you love, right?''

 

''And for you, that's...starring in porn movies?''

 

''Yep. I'm living my dream, baby. Sex, flexible hours, fat pay checks...''

 

Washington raised an eyebrow. ''Isn't the sex staged?''

 

''Yeah, but if my co-actor's cute, I have sex with them later.'' Tucker smiled smugly, and Washington rolled his eyes.

 

''Well, I'm glad you landed your dream job,'' Washington said with a sip of his coffee.

 

Tucker could guess by then that Washington's past was a topic to avoid, but he couldn't help taking a shot. He'd just spilled enough embarrassing details about _his_ life, maybe Washington would feel comfortable enough to share his own secrets. ''What about you? How was life in the army?''

 

''I don't want to talk about that.'' Or not.

 

''Oookay.'' Tucker sipped his coffee, looking around the room for a way to bounce off topic. He spotted the tv then, and thought of the solution to all problems: Netflix. ''Wanna watch a movie?''

 

Washington gave it some thought, and seemed about to turn down the offer. Finally, however, he nodded. ''Sure.''

 

That was how they ended up squeezed on Tucker's couch, which could just barely seat two people, watching Moana. Although Washington got surprisingly invested in the movie – Tucker made a mental note of how Washington seemed to enjoy the sing-and-dance numbers – he fell asleep halfway through the movie, falling over on Tucker's shoulder.

 

Tucker stiffened, and tried to focus on the movie. He didn't know whether to wake up Washington, or leave him be and enjoy this nice little, chick-flick worthy moment. If he gave it time, Washington would probably wake up on his own. Besides, the man needed to sleep!

 

Although...man, Washington was kind of heavy. Tucker tried to move his shoulder, and found that he barely could. It felt like Washington was made out of concrete. ''Wash,'' Tucker groaned, ''hey, Wash, buddy...''

 

Tucker reached over with his right hand, and mussed Washington's hair gently. Ooh. Soft. Tucker enjoyed the feel of it a little longer, before getting on with the mussing. ''Wash, wake up!''

 

Washington woke with a start, tensing up, and leaning off Tucker instantly. Blinking a few times, he asked: ''What—What happened?''

 

''You fell asleep on me, dude.'' Tucker said it casually, rubbing his shoulder.

 

''I did...?'' Washington blinked at him, and cleared his throat. ''Uh, sorry, Tucker.''

 

''No worries. Think you're ready to turn in, though?''

 

''Yeah, I think so.''

 

Tucker caught Washington glancing at the screen, and said with a grin: ''We'll finish it tomorrow, don't worry. I wanna see if Moana can get Maui to open up.''

 

''Me too,'' Washington admitted softly. ''...Good night, Tucker.''

 

''Night, Wash.''

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you liking this so far? Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)

Once he began to spend more time out of his own room, Washington found that living with Lavernius Tucker was...interesting. Tucker had a unique lifestyle. He worked out sporadically to keep in shape for his movies, but his diet was outrageous. He had all sorts of weird friends that would pop in every now and then – and Washington could never be sure whether it bothered Tucker or not. It was one of those friends, for example, who had started Tucker on a ''trending'' diet of eating exclusively food products that start with vowels. Spontaneous, late-night hangouts like the one that had started everything happened more and more. Washington enjoyed them, although he had seen Tucker's penis more times than he cared for.

 

During Washington's first month in the apartment, there had only been one film shot there. Washington came home from his morning run to find a film crew setting up their equipment around the living room, and Tucker's bedroom. Tucker sat at the kitchen table wearing a satin robe, as a makeup artist leaned over him, and did his contour. It was a bit surreal, and Washington took a couple of slow steps into the apartment before Tucker noticed him.

 

Tucker called out to him from where he sat: ''Wash! Sorry, I completely forgot to warn you about this!''

 

''Uh...it's fine,'' Washington blinked, wondering how he could bypass the film crew on his way to his room.

 

''Lavernius, who is this man?'' The director hung around the kitchen, and he looked keenly at Washington. ''Is he an actor? Does he have an agent? What's his—''

 

''Dude, no. Stay away from Wash.''

 

''Oh, but he would make such a perfect top in another one of my projects. That body, so muscular and—''

 

''Run away while you can, Wash!''

 

Washington managed to abscond into his room, red-faced and feeling uncomfortably exposed in the sweaty tank top he wore on his jog. He couldn't shower either what with all the people in the apartment; all he could do was slip into an old shirt that he didn't mind dirtying, and that felt less gross than keeping his workout clothes on. He sat rigidly on his bed then, and tried to read a book until the filming stopped. Washington assumed they weren't shooting the entire movie here – probably just a sex scene. How long could those take?

 

About half an hour later, Washington heard the director shout: ''Places, everyone! Lavernius, you stand right over there, dear. Nick, go on in the hall—''

 

 _Nick?_ Washington raised his eyes from the book he had barely been paying attention to. A deep voice answered the director, and Washington blinked twice in surprise. He hadn't realized that Tucker's co-actor was a man. Tucker had told Washington that he did movies with both men and women of course, but it hadn't sunk in with Washington until he heard that deep voice. Another thing that sunk in right then: the walls in this apartment were very thin. Washington would hear Tucker and Deep-Voice-Nick do it just as clearly as if he was there in the room with them. He didn't have an ipod or any kind of music player either, and it was too late to high-tail it out of the apartment.

 

''Oh, it's you.'' Tucker's voice came from the lobby just as Washington concluded that he was doomed. Tucker sounded meek; totally unlike usual. The filming was definitely a-go. ''Why are you here?''

 

''I thought we could finish what we started last night in my office.'' Just hearing Deep-Voice-Nick talk made Washington want to roll his eyes.

 

''After what happened? You're crazy...''

 

''Crazy for you.''

 

Washington wanted to cover his face with his hands in second-hand embarrassment. He didn't know that the dialogue in porn movies was always this corny. Little did he know—dear heart—that the embarrassment would only get worse from there.

 

Washington was again blindsided by a fact that should have been obvious: Tucker was going to simulate sex with this man. Washington couldn't hear the actors sucking face, but the truth strutted in front of his eyes when Tucker's first, loud moan travelled through the wall. Washington's face warmed up, and he desperately turned to the window, entertaining the idea of making a break for it from there. The apartment was on the third floor of the building, however, and there was no emergency ladder. Another problem to take up with the landlord some other time, but, for now, Washington was stuck. Granted he'd done some hardcore stuff in the service, but even he couldn't make a three-story jump without breaking every bone in his body.

 

There was that, and, though his cognitive mind tried its utmost to ignore the very shadow of the thought, Washington didn't completely want to leave. The truth was that it had been a long while since Washington had gotten sexual release, even by himself. There were an issue with mental blocks there, but Tucker's performance in the next room was starting to unwind that long, tight coil in Washington's head. It didn't remind Washington of past sexual encounters – not that those were bad, they simply tended to bring him down more than anything given that the people involved weren't in his life anymore. But, no, the suggestion of Tucker was different. It was new, and it was enticing. It made Washington come quietly in his room even as he hung his head in shame.

 

If Tucker didn't warn him about this next time, Washington would have words with him.

 

***

Things took a turn after that fateful day of filming, but not in the way either roommates expected. Tucker apologized profusely to Washington, and Washington eagerly accepted the apology on account of his secret guilt. It was water under the bridge.

 

Tucker praised Deep-Voice-Nick's performance without invitation a couple of days later, and Washington feigned mild interest. Washington felt it was more appropriate than mild jealousy. Before that jealousy had the time to become a problem, however, something began to seem amiss with Tucker. It started with Tucker's inbox blowing up with messages, and Tucker making faces at his phone, or reluctantly replying. It then turned to Tucker screening his calls, and occasionally coming home in a hurry.

 

It took some time, but Washington eventually decided that it wouldn't be unacceptable of him to ask what was going on. Tucker and he were friends after all—maybe. Washington thought so. So, one afternoon as they sat on the couch, Washington opened the topic.

 

''It's Nick,'' Tucker admitted. ''He's been kinda—uh—hung up on me.''

 

Washington's jawline tensed; he didn't like the sound of this. ''Is he the one who's been texting and calling you so much lately?''

 

''Yeahhh,'' Tucker tried to sound casual. ''Like I said, he's hung up. I'm just not interested, but the guy's persistent. He'll give up eventually.''

 

''What about you coming home in a rush the other day—did that have anything to do with him?''

 

Tucker paled slightly. ''Oh. Yeah. I was at a studio I work for a lot, and he was there. I just hurried back cuz I didn't wanna talk to him. I hate awkward stuff.''

 

''It happened more than once though.'' Washington watched Tucker carefully. He noticed the change in Tucker's demeanour; could tell that Tucker was nervous. Washington didn't like this one bit. His protective instinct rose from the grave of his time in a squad. Nobody hurt his squad mates, and nobody would hurt Tucker. ''Tucker,'' he said softly, ''you can tell me. I'm on _your_ side.''

 

Tucker hesitated for a moment, then said: ''He actually met up with me outside a few times. No idea how he knew where I was. I had to shake him off and run home each time, and he didn't follow me at least. Not that he needs to.'' Tucker paled even more; Nick already knew where Tucker lived after all.

 

''You're scared of him?''

 

''Well—he's a big guy, you know? I had some stalker-y fans before, but they weren't like him. I couldn't take him if he tried to jump me, you know?''

 

''I'm sure you could,'' Washington said, ''but it won't come to that.''

 

''How do you know that?''

 

''I just do. Trust me.''

 

Tucker let out a half-breath, half-laugh. He seemed relieved. ''I weirdly do trust you. Thanks, Wash.''

 

''Don't mention it.'' An inexplicable impulse made Washington reach out, and place his hand on Tucker's knee then. It didn't faze him until Washington made the conscious realization that he didn't normally touch anyone. He just wasn't a—touchy guy. The last time had been when he'd fallen asleep on Tucker, but that had been out of Washington's control.

 

Tucker glanced at the hand, and up at Washington, and it was clear that Tucker realized how unusual it was, too. Washington's warmth hopped down from his hand to Tucker's knee; Tucker's warmth jumped up from his knee to Washington's hand. Their warmth travelled up their body – to the groin, the heart, the head. They both recognized that they shouldn't feel so much intensity from such a simple touch, and that was when Washington started up, pulling back his hand like it had been scalded.

 

''Uh...!'' Washington let out as Tucker blinked at him and the atmosphere in the room turned nauseatingly awkward. ''Sorry...''

 

Tucker answered carefully: ''About what?''

 

Tucker was right: there was nothing to be sorry about. All that electricity, that heat, that had all been in their head. Washington only pointed it out by apologizing, and _that_ made things awkward because of course Tucker hadn't felt any of that and oh god how fast could Washington beeline to his room—

 

''Wash,'' Tucker said, cutting into Washington's inner meltdown.

 

Washington stared at Tucker. Rigid, he let Tucker pull him back down to the couch, and kiss him on the mouth.

 

Washington's heart jumped in his chest as soon as their lips met, and he fumbled through the first few seconds of the kiss. Luckily for him, the kiss stretched on, and Tucker paced himself with Washington until Washington eased into the kiss. Tucker was used to holding amateurs by the hand.

 

Tucker sighed sweetly, and the sound of it scrambled Washington's thoughts. Washington pulled away, sputtering: ''We should—we should—''

 

''We should keep making out,'' Tucker leaned forward and tried to capture Washington's lips again.

 

''No—I—'' Washington's eyes shifted to the side, avoiding Tucker's penetrating gaze. ''Sorry. I can't.''

 

Tucker sat there, dumbfounded, as Washington retreated to his room. Tucker turned to stare at Washington's door, and, after a minute, he formed the thought: _Well, this isn't how things usually go down._

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was thinking up ideas for this fic and...............-inward sigh at myself- this might turn out to be longer than i thought
> 
> u guys better enjoy it.....  
> ...<3

Easily half an hour after the kiss, Tucker remained on the couch, staring at Washington's door. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it. One minute Washington and he had been talking about Tucker's creepy, stalkery co-star, the next they were making out. Granted, Tucker had dived for the kiss, but he had only risked it because of Washington giving him a Look. That kind of Look couldn't be mistaken: Washington wanted Tucker. Or, at least, he _had_ wanted him for a brief moment.

 

And then just as quickly, Washington had run away. Leaving Tucker with the sensation of rough lips on his, and tingling in his stomach. Tucker closed his eyes, and shivered as he tried to hold on to the memory. Where had that boy learned to kiss like that? The army? Tucker would have to look into enlisting...

 

No—that was stupid. Besides, Washington wasn't that good; Tucker was just ridiculously attracted to him – enough to look past anything.

 

Indeed, Tucker's crush was now at bad-haircut-level: the level where a crush stands strong even after the person in question gets an ugly haircut. The strongest level by contemporary standards.

 

Tucker slowly reintegrated reality, and wondered where to go from there. Would it be a terrible idea to knock at Wash's door, to try to coax him out? Not necessarily to pick up their make-out session where they'd left it off, but, at least, to figure out why in the— _heck_ —Washington had cut it short.

 

Probably a bad idea, yeah. Washington was withdrawn enough already without Tucker trying to force him into opening up. So, as much as it pained and frustrated him, Tucker would control himself. Tucker threw one last, longing look at Washington's door, sighed, and took his hard-on to the privacy of his own room where he would bite back Washington's name and deal with this little problem – for now.

 

*

''The director _loved_ you! He was like, 'I defs gotta have this guy in my next movie'.''

 

Tucker stood facing his agent's desk in a small office with tacky furniture. The colours in the room clashed. Narrowing his eyes at his agent's words, Tucker asked: ''He doesn't want Nick as my co-star again, does he?''

 

''Maybe he did, but—you don't know? I thought you guys were like, still hooking up.''

 

''Know what?'' Tucker inwardly threw up at the thought of he and Nick hooking up.

 

''Nick's taking a break. He broke his arm or something, I think? I heard it from his agent. Actually—I'm not even sure I shoulda told you. Well, whatever!'' The woman shrugged, and leafed through a stack of papers on her desk. After a moment, she sighed with a distinct trace of boredom: ''I got some people who could fill in for Nick, but we need some fresh meat if you ask me.''

 

Tucker scrunched up his face. Somehow his agent was even more crass than him. ''Do you have to be so gross about it?''

 

'' _Hey!!_ '' The woman slammed a hand on her desk as if she'd had a sudden epiphany, and she looked up at Tucker. ''You should ask your roommate—he was _hot._ Franklin loved him too. He couldn't shut up about—''

 

''Wash isn't an actor,'' Tucker cut in. ''And I doubt he'd be interested.''

 

''Everyone's gotta start somewhere, right? Just ask him! Maybe he's kinky as fuck—maybe he's _always_ wanted to be a porn star. You don't know!''

 

Tucker knew that he wouldn't be able to leave his agent's office unless he agreed to talk to Wash, so he did. In exchange, he got her promise that she would consider other actors. With that done, Tucker wasted no time in escaping the room before Kaikaina Grif could trap him in another conversation about her sex life.

 

*

''Apparently, he broke his arm, so he's taking a break from work.'' Tucker was leaning against the refrigerator door, looking but not really looking at the contents of the fridge in search of a snack. Washington sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and reading the newspaper like the old man Tucker repeatedly said he was.

 

A week had passed since the two of them had kissed, and, through the simple act of denying anything had happened, things between them had gone back to normal. Tucker went on: ''Can you believe it? It's so weird—cuz I was just thinking that he hasn't contacted me recently.''

 

''Oh, really?''

 

Tucker slammed the fridge door shut, and turned to squint at Washington. There had been something in Washington's _oh, really?_ that had sounded a bit too casual. Suspicious. ''Did you—Did _you_ break his arm?''

 

Washington's head snapped up. ''What? No!''

 

''Oh my god, you _did._ Wash, what the fuck!''

 

''W—well, what about you?! How was that your first guess?!'' Washington's eyes were wide: he honestly seemed more surprised that Tucker had figured it out so quickly, and through no fault of his own.

 

''I'm really fucking perceptive, ok?! I'm always the first one who figures out when two people have a thing for each other! You're the one who said Nick wouldn't bother me anymore, and—dude, you're really dark. Like, I definitely get the hired killer vibe from you sometimes.''

 

Washington's eyes widened. Then, his shoulders sunk; he looked away.

 

And remorse immediately shot through Tucker. ''Wash—I'm sorry. I just—''

 

''No, it's ok...,'' Washington didn't lift his eyes. ''...You're not wrong.''

 

Tucker blinked, but he remained quiet. He wasn't sure whether Washington meant that he did _seem_ like a killer, or _was_ one. Obviously, Washington must have killed people during his time in the army, but the terms _soldier_ and _hired killer_ held different connotations, and, clearly, the differentiation affected Washington.

 

Either way, Tucker's words had hit where it hurt. A major _faux-pas_. Tucker resisted to urge to slap himself on the forehead, and wracked his brain for something to say. This was a messed-up situation – and Washington was without a doubt a messed-up man – but Tucker didn't want things to be like this between them. He didn't want Washington to feel ashamed around him.

 

Everyone had scars. Things they weren't proud of. The last thing Tucker wanted to be was someone who denied people a second chance. So, Tucker slunk in the chair facing Washington's, and he said: ''I'm sorry. You—took care of Nick so he'd leave me alone, right? Thanks...for trying to protect me.''

 

For a moment, it seemed like Washington wouldn't answer; but then, he offered slowly: ''...Just don't do it next time?''

 

Tucker blinked, and he couldn't help the small, somewhat amused smile appearing on his face. ''Yeah.''

 

Washington didn't smile, but his shoulders relaxed.

 

Looking at Washington quietly, Tucker wondered if Washington would ever tell him about his past. It wasn't the first time that Tucker asked himself the question, but it was the first time he felt an honest, unselfish desire to know. He'd seen a glimpse of Washington's pain; all he wanted now was to help mend it.

 

Washington's right hand lingered on top of the table; Tucker reached for it, fingers trembling very slightly. Tucker placed his hand atop Washington's, half-expecting Washington to draw back.

 

He didn't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on an unrelated note y'all.......i know it is lame to self-advertise but i recently self-published my debut novel. if you're curious abt it, you can check out the official tumblr @sakaei-trilogy or hmu with questions on either my tumblr or twitter  
> thx a lot!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -crawls out of pit to drag this fic back from the fucking grave-  
> bet u bitches thought ud seen the last of me
> 
> Ok ok. Real talk? I lost inspiration for this fic shortly after starting chapter five fucking seven months ago, but I was browsing my old fics yesterday and i was like ''damn this one was good...how could i let it go'' and i forced myself to work on it and got a wave of inspiration halfway through. So there. Even if the old readers have moved on, hopefully new ones will come!
> 
> Oh, the song that Tucker is singing at the beginning is ''Depend on Myself'' by TLC ;p

_''I can depend on myself, I don't neeeeed anybody else, to be onnn my back like that—!''_

 

Hearing Tucker sing in the shower had been a regular occurrence since Washington had moved in with him. Tucker did it pretty much every time he showered, singing a variety of songs from a broad repertoire that was all but entirely lost on Washington.

 

Washington had started to expect the inevitable concerto that would soon follow when Tucker brought a towel into the bathroom, and the shower began to run. It had been odd for Washington at first, but it was now a welcomed part of his routine.

 

Tucker actually managed to sound pretty decent, but, more than that, what Washington welcomed was the sense of comfort that came from hearing him sing. Tucker was comfortable enough, even with Washington around, to let himself sing in the shower, and there was something reassuring in that.

 

_''See, I got it—what you neeeed is—you need diamonds and peaaarls, baby—''_

 

Washington smiled into his cup of coffee. He had no idea what Tucker was singing today either, but he was glad that Tucker was enjoying himself.

 

Cutting through the sound of the rush of water, and Tucker's voice, came the sound of the front door being unlocked. Wash nearly jumped out of his seat, tense down to his toes as he stood ready to pounce on whoever threatened his new life.

 

Tucker got a lot of visitors – friends, lovers, people in the porn industry – and Washington had grown accustomed to opening the door to all manners of people. That was it, though: they all knocked. Washington's hands turned clammy even as he tried to tell himself that he wasn't in a war zone, that a threat didn't lurk around every corner - or behind every door, in this case.

 

Washington's fingers twitched. _My knife—Where's—_

 

The door opened before Washington remembered that he didn't carry a knife on him at all times anymore, and there, in the door way, stood a child with a set of keys.

 

Bright, chocolate eyes stared up at Wash's own – tired and greyish blue, normally. Now? _Confused_ and greyish blue.

 

The child – a little boy – tilted his head to look at Washington somewhat brazenly, and he said: ''You the new roommate?''

 

Washington blinked. ''Uh...''

 

''Whatever.'' The kid very casually pushed past Washington, entering the apartment. He walked over to the bathroom under Washington's thunderstruck stare, and pounded on the door. ''Daaaad!''

 

The water stopped running, and clattering came from the bathroom as if Tucker was scrambling out of the shower and knocking things over on his way to the door. Throwing the door ajar, Tucker emerged in a bath robe, happily calling out: ''Junior!!!''

 

Tucker bent down to pick up the little boy and gather him in his arms. The kid pretended to fight against the hug, but the big, toothy grin he wore told the truth.

 

When Tucker put the kid back down, he looked over at Wash; who hadn't moved from where he stood by the table. Tucker couldn't help laughing at the look of absolute shock on Washington's face. Putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, Tucker explained: ''Wash, this is Junior. He's my kid! Forgot to tell you he was visiting today.''

 

''Looks like you forgot to tell him about me, period,'' Junior pointed out.

 

''The subject just never came up!''

 

''Uh-huh,'' the kid stared at his father unrelentingly. ''You go around showing pictures of me to ladies at the supermarket, but your roommate doesn't make the cut?''

 

Tucker gave himself pause to think over how to come back from that. ''Look,'' he attempted. ''The ladies at the supermarket? I know they're gonna eat up your baby pictures. And you know I eat up that kind of attention. But I don't know how this guy feels about kids! He's just not the—talk-about-your-kid type, you know—?'' Tucker felt like there should be more to that, but he couldn't think of anything.

 

''You...,'' Washington managed after a long silence, ''...have a kid.''

 

''Duh.'' Running a hand over his own cheek appreciatively, Tucker said: ''How could I deny future generations _this_?''

 

In hindsight, considering the way Tucker put out, it shouldn't have been that surprising to learn that he had a child – or two, or three—Washington just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of Tucker as a father, but the boy was undeniably Tucker's. The resemblance between them was adorably striking, and Tucker fawned over the kid like Washington had never seen him fawn over anyone else.

 

While Tucker left to get dressed in a hurry, Junior waited in the kitchen with Washington, and Washington couldn't think of a word to say.

 

Washington wished he _had_ said something, _anything_ , however, and hadn't left the floor open for Junior to ask: ''So, are you and my dad sleeping together?''

 

Washington's answer was a shrill '' _no_!''

 

''Hm,'' Junior said. ''Good, then.''

 

The comment would later find its way back to Washington's mind, but, for now, Washington contented himself with praying for Tucker to hurry back. Washington was no good with kids; he hadn't been around children at all since his own childhood – and that, Washington could hardly remember.

 

Tucker came out of his room, dressed and groomed in record time. ''Come on, kiddo, let's go!''

 

As Junior trotted towards the front door, Tucker turned to Washington. ''We'll be out all day, so you'll get a day of peace and quiet. Don't wait up!''

 

Tucker and his son were out the door before Washington could react in any way, leaving in their wake an almost palpable silence. Washington stood there for a moment; then, slowly, he took in the empty apartment.

 

_Peace and quiet._

 

Washington discovered he preferred the sound of Tucker's voice.

 

*

 

Leaving Junior with his mother became harder every time Tucker saw him. Tucker knew he wasn't fit to be a full-time parent, and that this arrangement was better for Junior, especially considering the circumstances of his birth, but damned if Tucker didn't want to be an actual father to him. He loved the kid so much more than he ever thought he would before Junior was born.

 

It was with a heavy heart, then, that Tucker got back to the apartment late in the evening, but his spirits picked up slightly as he opened the door to see Washington on the couch.

 

''Hey,'' Tucker called out.

 

Washington turned to him with a weird, indecipherable look. ''You're back,'' he said simply.

 

Tucker glanced behind him at the door, and back at Washington. With a bemused grin, he concluded: ''Seems like it. Weirdo.''

 

''I mean—'' Washington fumbled with his words, and eventually decided to switch gears. ''How was your day?''

 

Tucker sighed, and walked over to the couch to plop next to Washington. ''Really fun,'' Tucker answered, then glanced at the television. ''Oh hell yeah, you're watching Friends?''

 

Washington felt Tucker's proximity more acutely than he normally did, and he spent a moment agonizing over whether to shift position so their knees didn't touch, and Tucker's hand wasn't in arm's reach, and—

 

''Y-yeah,'' Washington forced himself to reply. ''It's good for when you just want your brain to go numb.''

 

Tucker snapped his fingers at him in agreement. He watched the screen in silence for a moment, until he leaned against Washington's shoulder with another sigh. Tucker didn't notice the way Washington held his breath at the contact. He just grinned, and said: ''So. Surprised that I have a kid?''

 

''Yeah...,'' was all Washington managed to say.

 

Tucker's grin faded, until a distant expression clouded over his features, and he stared ahead. ''He was an accident,'' Tucker spoke quietly. ''His mother offered to take full responsibility for him. To care of everything, so I wouldn't have to.''

 

Washington gradually relaxed as he listened to Tucker, trading his worries for Tucker's. Washington was continuously amazed with how easily Tucker opened up, and how at ease Tucker's honesty put him. Without realizing it, Washington reached his arm around Tucker's back, drawing him closer.

 

''I was more than happy to let her do that at the time. I mean, how's a porn star supposed to take care of a baby, right? Though—I guess some do it, but I—just didn't feel like I could. I still don't...,'' Tucker trailed off.

 

Then, Tucker added: ''But it'd be nice if I could. Sometimes I just want that—a normal life, with my kid. With someone I love.''

 

Washington's heart stirred, but he didn't move, or speak a word.

 

Tucker twisted his head to look up at Washington. ''Wash, you must know what that's like, right? To want a normal life.''

 

Washington swallowed, and he answered in a breath. ''I'm starting to.''

 

After the life he'd lead, Washington didn't even know what normal was; hence, it was never something he aspired towards. But as Washington recalled this morning, how he'd been ready to crush whatever threat was about to intrude on his new life, Washington realized that this might be it. Living with Tucker, listening to him sing in the shower, holding him—like this.

 

Washington could even picture Junior added to the mix.

 

The thought was almost surreal.

 

Tucker's lips found his, and they were trembling. Washington kissed him back, slowly, allowing time to hallow the moment, to make it real.

 

They went no further than that kiss that night, but, in an entirely different way, they did.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The days following Junior's visit were like a dream – unreal, and unspeakable precious. Tucker and Washington exchanged touches freely, soft, innocent touches that pulled them inexorably closer. Sometimes they were a bit more; Washington learned to welcome the sensation of Tucker's fingers on his skin, and each of Tucker's kisses and caresses dulled Washington's fight-or-flight instinct until it turned to _stay._

 

Surprisingly, Tucker didn't push beyond that, and it seemed as though their relationship would remain chaste as far as Tucker was concerned.

 

Washington didn't think about it until, one afternoon, Tucker got off the phone, and said: ''I'm gonna have a shoot over here tomorrow. Just to let you know.''

 

Washington blinked, looking up from the pile of laundry he was sorting through, and folding; that had become his job, since Tucker sure as hell wouldn't do it. It took a moment for Tucker's words to catch up to Washington: a shoot, right—a movie shoot—a _porn_ movie shoot—Tucker simulating sex with someone else. It was easy to forget Tucker's profession when he didn't bring it home, but the reminder sent Washington for a loop.

 

It bothered him, Washington discovered, to think of Tucker having sex with a random person. ''Oh...,'' Washington said. ''Right. Ok.''

 

Tucker paused, peering dubiously at Washington. ''Problem?''

 

Washington considered the question, but got distracted as his eyes landed on Tucker's lips, and an urge to kiss Tucker came over him like never before. Washington stood up, closed the few steps between Tucker and himself, and, cradling Tucker's cheeks, Washington leaned down to kiss him.

 

The kiss was fiercer than usual, and Tucker instantly moaned into it, lifting his hands to wrap around Washington's neck. Tucker's restraint over the past few days hadn't actually taken much out of him; it hadn't been a conscious effort, he'd somehow been content with having Washington close. But now this, _this_ was trying his patience, and all the pent-up need he'd had for Washington since they'd moved in together was catching up to him.

 

Despite that, Tucker made himself stop. He pulled away, breathless with want, and said: ''Wash...are you jealous, or something?''

 

Washington looked as desperate with want as Tucker, and it took him a moment to nod.

 

The corner of Tucker's lips quirked up; he hadn't been expecting an honest answer, nor had he expected the answer to be yes. ''Even if the sex is fake? I'm not actually sleeping with these people.''

 

A blush spread across Washington's face, and he looked away. ''I know...''

 

''Do _you_ wanna have sex with me?'' Tucker's smile stretched.

 

Tucker's question, as offhand and flirty as it was, took Washington to a time he had tried to bury since leaving the military. The last time he'd been this close to someone, this intimate, on the precipice of something so special. Washington hadn't believed he could ever get himself there again – not with someone else. Not after everything that had happened.

 

Tucker's concerned voice broke the silence. ''Wash?''

 

Washington blinked away the shroud of memories swaying before his eyes, and he looked at Tucker. ''Y-yeah,'' he answered with a small nod. ''I want to.''

 

Tucker's smile tipped. ''Are you sure?''

 

This was why Tucker had stopped when the heat between them would've probably carried them to the finish line by itself – even as he ran the risk of ruining the mood. Tucker stepped back from Washington, allowing the both of them space to think clearly.

 

What Tucker knew about Washington, including his past, was infinitesimal, especially compared to the endless amount of random trivia Tucker volunteered about himself. Tucker didn't care so much about that; he accepted how private a person Washington was.

 

But then, the less Tucker knew about Washington, the more Washington felt unreal; like a ghost that could disappear at any moment. Even the days they had spent together in a rose-coloured, domestic dream could be just that, a dream. It could vanish like all the things Tucker had tried building for himself throughout his life.

 

_Don't think about him right now. This is different._

 

''I just...,'' Tucker trailed off. He took in a breath, and looked up at Washington. ''I want you to be sure.''

 

_I want this to be real._

 

Washington felt a familiar tug at his heart; he felt it whenever Tucker offered him a piece of himself. Not some random fact like how Tucker watched Voltron, or had a sword in his room that he liked to swing around for no reason, but something that left Tucker feeling vulnerable. Something that he wouldn't give up to just anyone. Every time he did, he wore down Washington's defences, made him believe that things could be different this time.

 

Before that, though, there was something that Washington needed to do. Something he owed to Tucker. ''There was someone I loved in my old squad,'' Washington admitted very quietly.

 

Tucker's eyes widened slightly as he realized that Washington was actually opening up to him about his past. He stayed deathly still, waiting for the rest.

 

''It...didn't work out,'' Washington wouldn't go into the details. This was already hard enough to vocalize. ''I didn't think I could be with anyone again. But, Tucker...I want to be with you. I want to try.''

 

Tucker sucked in a breath as his heart pounded against his chest. There was so much to unpack in what Washington had said, but Tucker would get to that later. It could wait. ''Let's get it the fuck on, then,'' he said, drawing close to Washington again, and pulling him into a kiss.

 

Washington's self-control snapped four seconds into the kiss and, squeezing Tucker's thighs, Washington lifted Tucker up.

 

''Oh fuck yes,'' Tucker half-giggled, half-panted in response.

 

Holding Tucker up, Washington made his way to Tucker's room – trying to walk straight while returning Tucker's fervent, hot kisses.

 

Luckily, when they inevitably bumped into the door frame of Tucker's room, it only seemed to excite Tucker even more.

 

Washington lowered Tucker on the bed, and Tucker immediately dragged Washington down with him. Washington managed to land on his forearms, with Tucker encased in-between. Washington's heart sped up at the sight of Tucker underneath him, chest heaving, lips swollen. Washington was back on that precipice, he knew it from the dizziness in his head, but it wasn't as terrifying as Washington thought it would be.

 

Tucker moved to sit up, and Washington leaned back to give him the space. Kissing down Washington's neck, Tucker reached for the hem of Washington's shirt, and he pulled away only to peel the shirt over Washington's head. Then, Tucker looked down, and his breath caught in his throat.

 

Washington's chest was streaked with scars – cuts, bullet punctures, some whose origin Tucker couldn't even guess towards. It was equal parts frightening and exhilarating to behold, but Tucker found that, instead, all he felt was the urge to make Washington forget his scars. So, he ran his hands from Washington's abs, feeling every curve appreciatively, up to the outer edge of Washington's collarbone, ripping a moan from Washington as he pushed him backwards onto the mattress.

 

Tucker nimbly moved to straddle Washington, then he paused, and looked down at Washington. ''So, assuming you don't have nearly as much experience as me in this area,'' Tucker said, ''how do you wanna do this? Just so we're both aware where we're heading.''

 

Flushed, and momentarily blindsided by how good Tucker looked from this perspective, Washington struggled to ask: ''W-what?''

 

''Do you want to top, or bottom? I'm good with both.''

 

''I—'' Washington didn't want to look bashful, but it was hard to compete with someone whose profession revolved around sex. A vivid blush covering his cheeks, Washington muttered: ''I'm used to bottoming.''

 

Tucker raised an eyebrow; he couldn't say that didn't surprise him. Briefly, Tucker wondered what Washington's previous partner had been liked, but he blocked out that dangerous train of thought before it messed with his head. ''We can do that, then, or I could walk you through the other option if you want,'' Tucker suggested with a grin.

 

Washington's blush deepened. ''What do _you_ want?''

 

''I want to make you feel amazing,'' Tucker answered simply. 

 

Washington swallowed. ''Do...what you do best, then.''

 

An eager, almost dangerous smile spread Tucker's lips. ''You got it.''

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy what nsfw is better than the kind where u can fill-in-the-blanks urself with ur own headcanons??
> 
> somehow I'm just not as comfortable with writing nsfw as I used to be so...take this fade-to-black and enjoy it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're at the end! I'm pretty proud of this fic, and I hope you enjoyed it! If you like my writing, pls consider checking out my original stuff ;)

Washington woke up with a big, almost goofy smile on his face, and Tucker's sleep-warm form next to him. It was an experience that shattered Washington's world in the best way, changed it from a battlefield into a home. His sleep had been blissfully empty of nightmares; instead, Washington remembered bits and pieces of peaceful, glowing dreams, like a bottle of water held up to the sun.

 

When his eyes fluttered open, Washington's gaze drifted to the side; where he saw Tucker, sprawled on his back, one arm flung over Washington's chest. Tucker was snoring lightly, and his mouth hung open – it was hilarious and endearing. Washington felt his heart swell, and it occurred to him for the first time that he might be in love. However confusing, however elusive an idea love was to him.

 

Washington tried to sit up without disturbing Tucker, backing up so he could lean on the headboard. Tucker just rolled over, remaining deeply asleep.

 

As Washington sat admiring the streaks of sunlight painted across Tucker's back, which the bed sheets had drawn off to reveal, he began to think of the future. It was, again, a foreign concept to Washington; for whom the future had always meant something short term. There was a time where he couldn't know if he'd even be alive in the next hour, and it had been hard to detach himself from that mindset. To think of the future as something that he had time to ponder, that he could shape for himself.

 

Although definitely a good thing, this new perspective brought its own set of problems. What would Washington _do_ now that he wasn't in the army, with the constant threat of death looming over him. He needed an income – what little money he had managed to snatch away; when the military operation of which he'd been a part for years fell apart, wouldn't last forever. Washington would need to...get a job. The prospect of it, so mundane and underwhelming to some, seemed impossible to him.

 

For one, there was the problem with his record being wiped clean. David Washington didn't exist anywhere. He wasn't even supposed to be alive. Washington had considered, briefly, making inquiries into reclaiming his identity, into becoming a registered citizen, but he gave up on the idea, knowing that it would be too dangerous. No one from the project would come after him if he just kept his mouth shut, and his head low.

 

He wasn't the only one at risk either. Some of squad mates were still out there – somewhere. Washington had no proof, but he had to believe they were. He'd tried looking for them: it was what had kept him so busy during the first few weeks of sharing the apartment, but he had given up on that as well. If Washington couldn't find them, then, they were safe. That had to be enough.

 

So, that left him with few job options. He would have to find some place shady enough that they didn't mind having a figurative ghost working for them.

 

Washington could almost hear Tucker telling him _you could do porn with me._

 

And to that, Washington would answer with a resounding _hell no._

 

''Was the sex that bad?''

 

Washington blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and looked down at Tucker; who had woken up, and was lying propped up on his side, staring up at Washington. ''Your face does not look like the face of someone who's just gotten laid,'' Tucker added, pouting slightly.

 

Washington's face flared up. ''I just—The sex wasn't—''

 

He paused, even redder, and gathered his thoughts. Then, he said: ''It's not that. I was just thinking about...the future.''

 

Tucker hummed at that, and that was his way of blowing past the 'future' part – for now. He had another question he was much more interest in knowing the answer. ''So, how _was_ the sex?''

 

Washington blushed yet another, deeper shade of red. He brought his hand to cover his mouth without even realizing it. ''Do you really have to ask...? I think it's pretty obvious I enjoyed it.''

 

''I like hearing how amazing I am,'' Tucker said, a cheeky grin spreading his lips.

 

''Alright,'' Washington couldn't help returning the grin. ''If it means that much to you—it was amazing. More so the second time around.''

 

''It always is. But, all things considered, the first time wasn't so bad.''

 

''A lil' bumpy.''

 

''Oh, definitely,'' Tucker said. ''But we made it work.''

 

Washington smiled again. He was doing a lot of that. It was really, really nice.

 

The two of them lounged in bed a while longer – much longer than Washington ever would – conversing softly, exchanging light touches, glances, smiles, luxuriating in the pool of sunlight pouring from Tucker's window. Their stomachs eventually made them get up and head to the kitchen in the same, rosy bubble; where they made breakfast together. Tucker pretended to be disgusted at how domestic they were acting, but his eyes were twinkling, and his heart felt so full.

 

Later, when they were halfway through their breakfast, Tucker asked: ''So, what's this about the future?''

 

Washington finished his bite, and hesitated a few extra seconds. ''I...was thinking of getting a job.''

 

Tucker stared at him for a moment. Then: ''You could do po—''

 

''I fucking knew you were going to say that,'' Washington interrupted him.

 

''What! My agent would hire you in a second.'' Tucker was smiling so hard he felt his face was going to crack. ''You could make a modest fortune.''

 

''Thank you for believing in me,'' Washington said, ''but I'm going to pass.''

 

Tucker simmered down, but he was still smiling when he said, ''You'll find something.''

 

_He's staying,_ Tucker thought, and he could feel his insecurities flicker and disappear. Washington wanted to find a job and, even if he didn't, it was enough for Tucker that he wanted to try. Maybe this was something Tucker wouldn't lose, something he wouldn't have to say goodbye to. Maybe this happiness was something he could keep.

 

''I'll help you,'' Tucker added, because he was going to share it.

 

Washington looked at him, his blue eyes shimmering with the same happiness. ''Thanks, Tucker.''

 

* * *

APARTMENT FOR RENT

2 bedrooms, washer/dryer in building

600$/month

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's unclear, so, the apartment ad at the end is meant to suggest that Tucker and Washington found a place of their own some time down the line (you decided how long!)
> 
> I kinda feel like writing a sequel detailing Washington's search for his ex-squad mates. Maybe I will...maybe I won't...
> 
> Anw, pls tell me what you think!!

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @narumiya-gei or on twitter @CheesyYams


End file.
